


Not the Weirdest Part of You

by Aphasioutta



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Peter, DomMatt, Handcuffs, Kinky, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Fantasy, Roleplay, Roof Sex, actually sweet don't be fooled, but still, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphasioutta/pseuds/Aphasioutta
Summary: Peter has a rape fantasy that he's ashamed to talk about. Matt validates and indulges him (because he's a sweet and supportive boyfriend).





	Not the Weirdest Part of You

Peter automatically regretted his words, clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence, but it was too late. He could see the evil smirk grow on Matt’s face, suddenly conniving, scheming.

 

“Don’t say a word.” Peter tried to sound firm, but Matt’s smile only grew wider.

 

“Hey, I didn’t kinkshame you and your dom streak. Don’t tease me for what  _ I _ like.” Peter was starting to get mad, but he didn’t want to fight. It was a bad idea to mention it, he knew that even before he said it. But he thought  _ hey, maybe Matt will get it _ . Yeah, sure. Good one, Pete.

 

Matt’s smile disappeared like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him. “What? Peter….”

 

“Forget I ever even mentioned it.” Peter could feel his face getting red, and Matt couldn’t see it, but he could probably feel the heat anyway. Damn it.

 

“Hey, now, I didn’t--”

 

“Matt, please.”

 

Matt was silent. Peter felt guilty, ashamed. Of course Matt wouldn’t understand. They were superheroes, they were risking life and limb to stop this kind of thing daily. And if he wasn’t laughing, he was disgusted. Fear crept up Peter’s spine. What if Matt was freaked out? What if he just ruined everything?

 

Matt was still sitting on the couch with an arm wrapped around Peter’s chest. Peter had been reading a book, sitting in Matt’s lap, but now he just stared at the pages, too frazzled to read and too afraid to say anything. He knew he was shaking a little; he couldn't help it. He tried to calm down, to get his heart to beat slower because he knew it was impossibly loud in Matt’s ears, but his nerves were suddenly shot and thinking about controlling his own pulse made it even harder. He cursed his reaction, but at the same time, this was something so secretive, something that had always haunted him a bit. He had felt like he could trust Matt with this, with anything, and now he was second-guessing himself and felt like shit for it.

 

He gasped when Matt nuzzled the top of his head, breath warm. “It's okay,” Matt murmured, hugging Peter a little tighter. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

“It’s weird,” Peter said quietly. He felt a lump in his throat, face burning in humiliation.

 

He could feel Matt’s smile against his skin. “Sweetheart. We dress up in leather and spandex and fight crime. This really isn't the weirdest part of you.”

 

Peter laughed at that, despite his distress, and his resolve broke into a hundred tiny pieces. He wiped away the couple nervous tears that escaped and let Matt hold him. Matt didn't comment on the tears, but Peter knew they didn't slip by him.

 

“Have you ever explored it before?” Matt asked, his voice light and even. Making it a point to keep any judgment out of his tone.

 

“God, no,” Peter said. “I’ve never...had anyone I thought I could trust. That way. I’ve never even really talked about it.” Matt was silent for a long time. Peter could practically hear the gears whirring in his brain. “Look, I know it isn’t normal, and I know it’s not right, especially for us. I mean, it’s the opposite of everything we stand for. I don’t know why it’s a thing for me, I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry.” Matt shifted, and Peter took it as a queue to get up. He was confused when Matt pulled him back down and dug his thumbs into Peter’s shoulders, trying to work out the tension, nuzzling Peter's hair. “Relax, Baby. Take a deep breath. I  _ understand _ .”

 

Peter found himself leaning back into Matt's hands despite the nervous situation, though he was still a far cry from calm. “You do?”

 

“Of course. I mean, I don’t have the same desire, but I get the psychology behind it. It’s thrilling, freeing, to have someone else take control. To not have the choice to resist, to be helpless. To have someone  _ make  _ you submit.”

 

“You sound like you know a thing or two about it,” Peter said, trying to keep his voice even. He couldn’t deny that the deep, quiet timbre of Matt’s voice, the way he was narrating Peter’s innermost desires, sent a shiver down his spine.

 

He felt Matt chuckle. “It’s a lot like subspace, and I do know a thing or two about that. It’s just a bit more forceful. Real rape is a horrible thing, but a consensual fantasy with limits is something different altogether.”

 

“So you aren’t weirded out that your boyfriend has a--a rape fantasy?” Peter still ducked his head and lowered his voice a the end, embarrassed to even say it out loud.

 

Matt responded by tipping his chin up and kissing him deep, wrapping his arm around him again when he was satisfied that Peter had relaxed. “Not at all.”

  
  
  


It was a few weeks since Peter’s confession. Things got busy without warning, at work and in the streets. They had barely had time to eat and sleep, and Peter even began to suspect Matt had forgotten about the incident.

 

He had just finished patrol on a Saturday night. He had broken a few noses, saved a few citizens, and it felt like a generally productive night. He decided to spend the night at Matt’s--it was closer than his apartment, and while Daredevil was probably still on the clock, he could at least crash there and wake up with his boyfriend.

 

He was on Matt’s roof, making his way toward the door that led to Matt’s apartment. The night was uncharacteristically warm and clear for March, and loud, drunken voices, passing cars and subway trains, and various other city-sounds filled the night air.

 

He felt the prickling at the base of his skull just a second too late. He spun out of the way, landing a light blow on the intruder behind him. It was too dark to get a good look as the man recovered and pulled him in by his wrist. Peter aimed his web shooter, but the man unlatched them both with ease, fingers even more nimble and quick than Peter’s own, and they clattered to the ground.

 

“Those are expensive, assho--” Before Peter could react, the man swiped a leg behind Peter’s knees, effectively bringing him to the ground, and wrestled him into immobility. Arms locked him tight against a broad, warm chest, one around his waist and arms, and the other gripping his throat. Fuck. He tried to yank free, but the attacker held him tight, even with his super-strength. His heart started to pound as fear crept up his spine. Who was waiting for him on the roof? How could he get out on the death-grip around him?

 

His attacker laughed in his ear, dark and growling. “Go ahead, struggle for me. It’ll only make this sweeter.”

 

Peter paused. He knew that voice. “Huh?” he asked, guarded but relaxing. Matt tightened his grip on Peter’s throat, just a fraction. The sensation went straight to Peter’s cock. He tried to pull away again, experimenting. Matt made a show of holding him back, almost crushing him to his chest. His breath was hot against Peter’s ear. “You’re mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Oh... _ oh _ .”

 

It took a moment for his brain to change gears, but when it did, Peter fell into the role like he was made for it. He struggled, lots of movement but no real force. “Get the fuck off me,” he threatened, wiggling in an attempt to escape (read, wiggling against Matt’s half-hard erection). “When my boyfriend finds you--”

 

“He’ll thank me for putting you in your place, slut.” Before Peter could react, he was pushed into the rough rooftop, arms yanked behind his back and fastened with--

 

“Handcuffs?” Peter asked. Since when did Matt own handcuffs?

 

“Makes whores like you easier to handle.”

 

Matt unceremoniously turned him onto his back. The tar and steel bit into Peter’s arms and wrists, but it was thrilling to be manhandled; he already felt his own cock straining against the fabric of his uniform. Peter could see now that Matt was in his old costume, black from head toe, wearing a mask with no holes cut out where his eyes were. All Peter could see was the angled jaw, the corded neck that he suddenly longed to press his mouth to. He could see the tent in Matt’s cargo pants and the obscene outline of his erection in his own suit. Matt tilted his head to the side, taking in the scene. Peter knew he could smell his arousal, hear his heartbeat, sense the expectation. Then he grinned, a downright wicked look on him. “Look at you. All trussed up and helpless for me.”

 

“You won’t get away with this,” Peter panted. “You know what I’m capable of.”

 

“And what happens, when a spider pits himself against the Devil?” Matt yanked Peter’s pants down to his ankles, nothing gentle in the way he touched him. He shoved Peter’s shirt up until it bunched at his armpits. He was helpless when Matt pushed his way in between his thighs and draped himself over Peter. He slid one hand around Peter’s throat again, just a warning to stay put while he had his way.

 

“Fuck,” Peter breathed, caught up in sensation. The hand squeezed slightly in reply, but Matt didn’t slow, worrying his nipples between his teeth and dragging his tongue down to Peter’s navel. Peter wanted to touch Matt, wanted to touch himself, but he was helpless to do anything but watch and ride it out.

 

Matt mouthed Peter’s thighs, came so close to kissing Peter’s cock, but he wouldn’t give the man that release yet. Peter groaned in frustration. “Please.”

 

Matt flipped his conquest without hesitation, perched him on his knees, and slapped the bare ass that lay before him. Peter yelped, helpless to stop his face scraping against the dusty roof. “You don’t give orders,” Matt snarled. “You don’t have a voice. You take what I have to give you.” They both knew that was a lie--one word from Peter and Matt would stop the entire scene, but in that moment, it was real, and terrifying, and  _ so hot _ .

 

Peter struggled, tried to squirm away in protest, and relished the sensation when Matt pulled him firmly back and smacked his ass again,  _ hard _ . Peter screamed, caught between needing to pull away and wanting to push back against it.

 

“You. Are. Mine,” Matt spat, his entire body pressed to Peter’s back. Peter whimpered and nodded in agreement, knowing Matt could hear the movement and draw conclusions. He tried to keep his breathing steady as Matt roughly squeezed the spot he had just hit. Then he sat up, spread Peter’s cheeks wide, and dove in face first, tongue laving over his hole. Peter moaned without shame, pushed his ass back into Matt’s face as much as the bigger man would allow, hands clenching uncontrollably behind him. One hand held his hip in a bruising grip, restraining him, and the other slid up and splayed on Peter’s lower back, applied just enough pressure to keep Peter's back arched. Peter felt possessed by his lover-turned-captor, out of his mind with desire. His cock was dripping beneath him, fluids pooling on the ground. He couldn’t do a damn thing to control what was happening, he was completely at Matt’s mercy, and it drove him up the fucking walls.

 

He didn’t even really notice when Matt added two fingers, then three, thrusting them viciously. He did notice when the older man pushed on his prostate, rubbed it without mercy and sent brutal waves of pleasure up his victim’s body. And he definitely noticed when his knees were pressed to his chest and Matt was suddenly lined up with Peter’s hole, hands and mouth ravaging and harsh and  _ everywhere _ . Matt thrust in without warning and set a brutal pace without giving Peter a chance to adjust.

 

Peter’s mind kind of blanked out. It wasn’t quite subspace, but something close. He was drowning in lust and sensation, and the ruthless black-clad man above him, and that left no room for thoughts in his brain. He felt like he was freefalling, but building up at the same time. There was too much, inside him, around him, sparking through him. All he could do was take it and hope for release.

 

Matt was a fucking animal on top of him, every thrust a punch to Peter’s prostate, making feral, possessive sounds deep in his chest. He wrapped his arms around Peter and hauled him up until he was flush with Matt’s body. One hand pinched his nipples, rough and evil, and the other held him up by the throat. Peter was crushed and battered and already sore, and the only thing he could hear was Matt, grunting and panting into his ear.

 

Peter came without warning. It had built up without either of them realizing it, and suddenly, Peter just couldn’t take it anymore. He keened, and sticky ropes of come splattered across the roof and dribbled down between his thighs. Boneless, brainless, and exhausted, he went lax in Matt’s embrace, and lost consciousness just as Matt found his own release inside him.

  
  
  


Peter woke up some time later. He wasn’t on the roof anymore. He was in bed now, in complete darkness but for the red alarm clock on the side table. It was 5 a.m.

 

He shifted, getting his bearings. His body felt like one big bruise, but in a really, really good way. His ass was sore (Matt was _bi_ g _),_ and he could feel scrapes on his knees and arms that would probably last weeks, but he was maybe the happiest he'd ever been. He felt clean, meticulously so, and could smell the soap on his skin. He felt a strong arm wrapped around him, a warm, naked body against his, and a face pressed to the back of his neck, slow, hot breath warming his skin. Smiling, he snuggled back into Matt, his beautiful, wonderful, amazing Matt, and fell back asleep, warm and blissful and totally satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys are liking the MattPeter stuff, they're my OTP of the week. Please let me know what y'all think, I'm really digging writing these and I'm absolutely open to suggestions!! <3


End file.
